


Misconceptions

by BarameinBara



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Double Penetration, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarameinBara/pseuds/BarameinBara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet Another DA k-meme prompt:<br/>Fenris has never had a willing sexual encounter with a man, and has some assumptions about how it must always be unwilling between two men. Somehow, he stumbles upon Anders with another guy, and Fenris assumes Anders is being raped. Even if he doesn't like him, Fenris doesn't stand for that and interrupts, making Anders mad because it scares off the guy he was with.</p><p>Fenris is mad because he thinks he did Anders a favor and Anders is too stubborn to admit it.</p><p>Eventually Anders ends up proving to him that he really does enjoy getting fucked by guys, by getting Fenris to fuck him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Please Fenris?” pleaded Hawke, her dark mahogany eyes absurdly large and bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Just do this as a favor to me? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I still do not see why you could not do it yourself Hawke.” Fenris mumbled, determinately looking away from the woman and her ridiculous antics.

“Believe me I would if I could but Mother will have my hide if I skip out on another of her dinner parties. She’s determined to set me up with Bran’s boy.” she rolled her eyes in a manner so exaggerated that Fenris could not help the curl of his lip in what would pass as and amused smile for him.

“Surely one of your staff could do it then? Or an urchin?” he asked hopefully.

Hawke shook her head “Everyone else I trust is busy and I wouldn’t dare send a stranger. There’s no telling what could happen if I did.”

“Then could it not wait?” he was grasping at straws, he knew, but he was reluctant to say no outright when he owed Hawke so much already, but he was not all together comfortable with performing this task for her.

“I know you don’t care for him but you see what he’s like don’t you? All skin and bones.” her brows furrowed with worry and a much less theatrical pout pursed her lips. “Fenris, I think this may be the only food he ever eats. Do you really think he deserves to starve just because you don’t want to spend two minutes in his company?”

He very nearly said yes, a large portion of his mind all for allowing the abomination to suffer, especially if it would ensure his personal comfort. Then a smaller but much stronger part of him instantly felt guilty. Hawke was right, anyone with any sense could tell that the mage walked on just the wrong side of the line between healthy and malnourished. Not even that insufferable imbecile deserved to go hungry just because Fenris couldn’t be arsed to go on a fifteen minute walk to deliver a care package.

“Alright fine.” he grumbled, relieving the woman of the large and unexpectadely heavy basket that she held out to him. 

Hawke beamed at him, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “Thank you Fenris, I meant what I said. I will make it up to you.”

Fenris waved her off. “There is no need, I already owe you more than I could hope to repay.” 

She made to protest but Fenris cut her off by turning his back to her and walking away. He hefted the massive basket onto one shoulder so he could still have a hand free with which to open the door to her estate. When he reached said door he lifted his free hand briefly in farewell before stepping out into the cool evening air.

He decided immediately that since he was unable to escape this menial task then he had best get it over with as quickly and efficiently at possible. He walked swiftly and took as direct a route to the under city as he could given the intentionally winding nature of Kirkwall’s streets. He made good time too, but the sun had still managed to set completely by the time he found himself outside the abomination’s so called ‘clinic’.

The lantern had been doused and the doors where shut but lamplight flickered from beneath them so he knew the mage was in and awake. As he approached the doors however, Fenris felt panic begin to flutter in his chest. Disturbing sounds where greeting his ears, of muttered curses, pained groans, and flesh hitting flesh. There must be a fight going on or, Maker forbid, something far far worse. 

Fenris set the heavy basket down on the ground carefully and drew his sword as he opened the nearest door with extreme caution... and promptly froze. The mage was bent over a literal barrel, robes pushed up around his waist and trousers around his knees, his face was buried in his arms that where clutching at the barrel so tightly his knuckles where white, with a constant chant of 'stop, please’ and 'don’t’ issuing in a muffled tone from his lips. Worst of all however, was that standing behind him, clutching the mage’s hips in a bruising grip as he thrust hard and fast was Carver Hawke.

He could not believe what he was seeing. He knew that Carver was an ass but this... this was monstrous, and more disturbing yet was how it was effecting him. The sounds the mage was making, dear Maker why where they so lovely? They set his blood aflame. And those lean, pale thighs... 

He was struck with a sudden image of himself taking Carver’s place, seeing their joining and watching his own bronze cock slamming into that perfect porcelain ass. This was followed immediately by simultaneous waves of nausea and arousal. Venhedis what was wrong with him!? 

As he stood frozen and unnoticed he watched as one of Carver’s hands released the mage’s hip to fist in his tousled hair instead, revealing a perfect hand shaped bruise where he had been grasping previously. Carver tugged Anders’ head up from off the barrel so that they stood chest to back and Fenris was given a full view of the abomination’s cock, long and slender like the mage himself, hard as iron and unspeakably enticing. 

He was being used and abused like a cheap whore, how could he be aroused during this? The poor bastard’s body was betraying him. He had seen it before in male slaves forced to service their masters, bodies giving over to the raw pleasure despite obvious horror. 

He continued to watch as Carver buried his face in the graceful arch of Anders’ neck, his hand still tangled in red-gold hair, still thrusting and grunting and wringing those sinful moans from the mage. Fenris saw him sink even white teeth in to tender flesh then, biting hard and timed perfectly with an especially powerful thrust. The loud startled cry that tore from the mage’s throat at this finally snapped Fenris out of his shock induced paralysis and sent him rocketing in to action. 

With an inarticulate shout of fury, he charged forward, his sword at the ready before him. This caused the two men startle badly at his interruption. Carver instinctively shoved the mage away from himself as he tried to back away quickly, causing Anders to tumble gracelessly into the barrel in front of him before he and it both rolled to the floor with a crash. 

Carver was flushing crimson and looking intensely embarrassed and uncomfortable, raising his hands in surrender as Fenris closed with him. His cock still jutted proudly from the folds of his templar skirt but was wilting quickly at the furious look in the elf’s eyes, while a steady stream of curses in an impressive array of languages and vulgarity where streaming from Anders as he tried to right himself on the floor. Fenris ignored him, unable to so much as glance at the mage in his current state.

“You had best leave now Carver!” he growled, his tone low and dangerous. “If it where not for your sister I would slay you here and now. This is a whole new low for you.” 

”Maker Fenris, wha...?” Carver started to question but Fenris cut him off.

“LEAVE NOW!” he barked, unable to control his rage and disgust.

Carver started at the sudden outburst, fear and shame clearly written on his face. He bolted from the clinic like a frightened deer, hurriedly tugging his trousers up as he ran and forgetting his gauntlets and sword which lay atop a nearby table. Fenris watched him go, his lip curling with distaste before he finally turned to face the mage. Anders had at least managed to cover himself back up altho his hair and clothing where still disheveled and he still sat on the ground. Fenris offered him a hand to help the mage up.

Anders’ honeyed eyes narrowed, ignoring the proffered hand as he pulled himself to his feet. “Why are you here, Fenris?” he asked, his tone exasperated and full of frustration.

Fenris was incredulous. “Should you not be more thankful, Mage?”

“Thankful!?” Anders practically shrieked with indignance “Why should I be thankful for a prying busybody sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“Because this ‘prying busybody’ just rescued you from being raped you moronic bastard, fasta vass!” he cringed inwardly a little at his harsh words. He knew it was unkind of him to be so angry with a victim, but Maker be damned if the blighted mage didn’t rankle him something fierce.

“Wait... what?” Anders asked, clearly confused and a little taken aback. “You thought that I was... that Carver?” he started to laugh heartily, the sound of it absolutely infuriating to Fenris who felt himself flush a little with embarrassment. 

By the time he finished he was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes and his voice was full of amusement. “Oh Andraste’s tits, Fenris, how could you possibly think that that was what was happening?”

Fenris’ flush deepened “I am not an idiot, Mage, you need not bother with your facade. He had you... beneath him. You where asking him to stop.”

Anders buried his face in his hands then and his shoulders began to shake. He was weeping, Maker have mercy the abomination was weeping. Fenris felt the bottom of his stomach drop and his protector instinct overpowered him. He placed a hand on the other man’s back, between his shoulder blades and shifted slightly closer to whisper comforting nonsense in the mage’s ear. 

When he did draw close, however, he quickly realized that the strangled noises Anders was making where not sobs as he had thought but badly suppressed laughter. Clearly the man was more broken than he had previously thought, this was not a normal reaction. This whole situation was far outside his realm of experience and he had no idea how to handle it. So he just stood there lamely, waiting for the mage’s ... laughter... to subside. 

“For the record, Fenris” the mage started, his voice cracking slightly “The act you witnessed was very much consensual” he turned to look at the elf then and his expression was oddly strained as if he was fighting mightily not to grin or continue laughing or, Fenris suspected, to cry. “ And I was asking him to not stop.” he added, trying to pass a sob off as a snort and doing a passable job at it too. 

“Please Ma-Anders, there is no need to deny it. Go to Hawke, she could...”

“For the love of the Maker do not tell Hawke about this!” Anders gasped, suddenly looking mortified. “You know how protective she is of Carver, she will cut off my fucking balls and force feed them to me!”

“I do not believe that Hawke would punish you because her monster of a little brother forced himself on you!” Fenris growled, grasping the mage by his shoulders and trying not to shake him but failing a little.

Anders just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “You really don’t get it do you? Fenris, let me spell this out for you. There. Was. No. Forcing. In fact the whole arrangement was my idea!”

Fenris snorted, disbelieving. “Why do you continue to protect him? Whatever he has threatened you with to ensure you’re silence doesn’t matter, Hawke will keep you safe.”

“Why are you so certain that he’s taking advantage of me? I’m a mage after all, and over a decade his senior. Maybe I’m the one ‘abusing’ him.” said the mage with a cheeky smile.

“Pfaugh, do not be ridiculous. You where ... receiving... he was the one taking advantage of you by definition!” Fenris wanted to scream at the mage and shake him senseless. Why was he being so difficult?

The odd strained expression had returned to Anders face again and Fenris felt certain that this time the man would start to weep. “Wait, wait, wait...” the mage started, a Maker damned chuckle rumbling from his chest. What the void was wrong with this mage? “Do you mean to tell me... that you honestly believe that a man cannot consent to being submissive?”

“Why so disbelieving mage? You know it to be true! The aggressor must always take from his victim, why would anyone consent to that?” Fenris finally released the mage, resisting the urge to push him away as he began to pace in irritation.

Anders shook his head, his expression grim. “What do they teach you in Tevinter?” oh sure, now the blighted mage looked uncomfortable and unhappy. “Fenris, I realize this is asking a lot of you, but you need to listen to me for once.” a slight smirk quirked one corner of his mouth as he said this but his tone was even and serious. “Submitting to another man in bed is not rape if one does it willingly, and I assure you I was very willing to give myself to Carver.”

“Why?” Fenris asked, hesitant to believe the mage still.

Anders shrugged. “He can be an ass sure, but he’s easy on the eyes. And he’s surprisingly well endowed. If I’d known earlier that his ‘second sword’ was near as big as his first I might have considered being less awful to him... maybe.” Fenris blanched at this statement and Anders grinned at his discomfort.

“No, that is not what I meant.” Fenris pinched his brow with frustration, slightly disturbed. “Why would you submit to him? Allow him to violate you like that?”

“Um, because I like it?” Anders stated matter of factly, as if this was an obvious answer. 

“How could you like it?” Fenris threw his hands in to the air and paused in his pacing to turn to the mage, eying him skeptically. “It is painful and shameful.” he stated simply, fighting back the bitter memories that threatened to surface.

Anders returned his skeptical glance with one of quiet sympathy, his sincerity so profound it caused Fenris’ breath to catch in his throat. When the mage spoke his tone was gentle but full of emotion. “It isn’t always like that.”

They both fell silent then, studying each other warily. Fenris knew from how he spoke that the mage had suffered some, after all who could not claim at least a little tragedy in their pasts? But now he was being forced to reconsider his opinion of the man, if only a little. 

After a time Anders seemed to be struck with some kind of thought or idea that Fenris immediately knew he would not appreciate, if the mage’s ludicrous smirk was anything to go by. “Why don’t I show you? Prove to you that it can sometimes be good.” his voice lowered then and became a purr that sent a shiver down Fenris’ spine and blood rushing to his groin. “It can be very good.” he promised, stalking towards the elf with a fiery hunger in his amber eyes.

Fenris found himself frozen once more as the mage approached, his mind unable to process the sudden shift in conversation and soon he found the human pressed flush against him. Slender arms wound around his waist and about his neck, gentle fingers threaded thru his hair, a long curved nose nuzzled at his jaw, before soft warm lips where pressed to the shell of his ear. “Please let me show you Fenris.” The mage cooed, his tone still low, purring, and seductive. 

Fenris could only groan in response. The damned mage could give all the whores at the Rose a run for their money! Already he was half hard in his trousers and he didn’t even like the man. But then, said a voice in his head, you don’t really have to like someone to want to fuck them senseless do you? Not always, responded another voice in agreement, and by Andraste’s pyre did he ever want the mage right now. He had never cared a whit for the man himself but he had always had appreciation for his looks. He was easily the most beautiful and graceful human male he’d ever seen and having him so close now was intoxicating. 

But no, this was not right. How had a simple errand for Hawke devolved so quickly in to him getting ready to fall in to bed with the blighted abomination? With surprising reluctance Fenris began to push the Mage away, trying to ignore the way his body felt utterly bereft without the human’s touch. It hadn’t been all that long since he’d last had sex, what was it about the mage that left him so wanting? 

Because the mage was just as interested, he realized. No one had ever expressed desire for him as just himself. All the sexual encounters he could remember where either free men taking advantage of a slave or whores interested only in his coin. Then here was Anders. No promise of coin to lure him and willingly offering his own submission. It was absolutely unheard of to the Tevinter slave and undeniably intriguing. 

“Please Fenris.” the mage whined as he was pushed away, the pleading tone in his voice doing unspeakable things to the elf. “Please don’t push me away. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Why so eager to have me in your bed Mage?” he growled softly, trying to force aggression in to his voice that he just was not feeling. 

Anders pouted at him, a grown man, likely older than Fenris himself and he was pouting. In what was a disturbingly good impression of Hawke’s token expression. “You interrupted before I could get off.” he whined and Fenris nearly choked on his blunt words. “I’m damned randy and you’re sinfully gorgeous. Besides I’ve been getting buggered by Carver on a regular basis, I might have the tiniest fetish for men that dislike me.”

Fenris had no idea what to make of that last statement so he chose to simply disregard it. “And what of Carver then?” he murmured, finding himself grasping at straws for the second time this evening. “If you where with him willingly then won’t he be upset with you?”

Anders chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating in Fenris’ chest and making his knees feel weak. “He’ll be a bit jealous true, but our arrangement is a casual one and he knows it. Besides he ran like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs, he’s lost his privileges as alpha male” 

“And your demon? He will not object?” Fenris asked, ignoring the flash of irritation in the mage’s eyes at his deliberately indelicate choice of words.

“Justice will not allow a committed relationship or emotional attachment.” He replied with a shrug. “But he has come to terms with the fact that men have needs, that I am much more content and better able to focus if these physical needs are met.”

Fenris shifted his weight uncomfortably, he was out of straws, he had nothing left to hide behind and only his own inexperience to hold him back. Anders seemed to sense his defenses crumbling, as well as his hesitation. He approached the elf again, but more slowly this time, extending a hand cautiously, seeking permission to touch once more. Fenris stiffened but did not resist or back away, allowing the human’s slender fingers to brush his jaw tenderly before the rest of the mage followed, melding himself to Fenris’ side.

“Do you want me, Fenris?” Anders purred in his ear, the fingers of one hand now drawing lazy lines along the elf’s throat and jaw while the other hand wrapped about Fenris’ waist to rest on his hip. “You may have me if you’d like.”

“Yes, I want you Mage.” Fenris growled in response, he didn’t see the point in resisting anymore.   
After all that he had seen and all that had been said he did not think he would be able to walk away from this, especially not with the mage so eager to please him. A part of him was still mistrustful of the abomination, expected him to turn this in to some kind of sick joke or to try and use it to blackmail him, but a quieter and kinder part of Fenris realized that it would not be in Anders’ nature to do so. He was an overzealous and misguided idiot but he was not a cruel or evil man, mage or not.

He felt Anders’ lips quirk into a smile against his ear at his statement. The hand that had been resting on Fenris’ hip shifted to stroke lightly at the laces of the elf’s leggings, causing Fenris to grunt softly at the too gentle and tickling touches strumming his quickly swelling member. Encouraged by the elf’s continued compliance Anders shifted, nipping at the tip of Fenris pointed ear before sliding to his knees at Fenris’ feet grinding sensually along his lithe elven body as he sank.

Skilled fingers made quick work of the laces on his trousers then, and before he knew it Fenris’ cock was free of his trousers and nearly fully erect. Anders released an appreciative hum at the sight, wasting no time in hungrily taking the tip between his lips, tongue swirling while one had pumped firmly. Fenris could not have suppressed his moan if he’d tried, gauntleted hands sinking instinctively into golden tresses and catching slightly, tho Anders did not seem to mind. 

He had never had another man suck him off before, he’d been forced to perform the act himself and female partners had done it for him but neither experience would have prepared him for this. Anders knew exactly how to touch him, how much pressure to use, what places felt best, when to shift to what technique. Fenris was unsure if it was because he was male and felt similarly or if the mage was simply skilled himself, he suspected that perhaps both where true. 

As it was he was finding it difficult to continue speculating. The mage had brought his spare hand up to cup at Fenris’ hairless balls, squeezing gently and rolling them between his fingers while slowly sinking lower, cheeks hallowed as the human took more and more of the elf into his mouth. When he had gone as far as he comfortably could, with the head of Fenris cock bumping the back of his throat, Anders started to bob, keeping a slow and steady pace.

Fenris could not look away, the sight before him was entrancing in a way he did not have words for. The infuriating but lovely mage on his knees before the elf, devouring his caramel cock with a perverse hunger, it was exquisite. And this was without even factoring in the actual physical pleasure of the act, which was beyond anything the former slave had ever experienced. Already he could feel the heat of impending release coiling in his abdomen and it seemed they had only just gotten started.

Fenris tugged lightly on Anders hair. “I am getting close, Mage.” he warned with a grunt.

One of Anders’ golden brows lifted at this and he visibly smiled around his mouthful. He winked at Fenris but did not stop, instead he brought his spare hand up to wrap around the base of the elf’s cock firmly while taking a deep breath. He sank down once more, but this time instead of stopping when Fenris’ length reached the back of his throat he kept going! Swallowing the thick cock like a starving man at a feast. 

There was a brief moment when the mage’s greed got the better of him and he began to choke and gag but it passed quickly and without incidence, allowing the man to take in the entirety of Fenris’ member. With soft lips wrapped around his root, curved nose nuzzled against his pelvis, and his cock buried in a tightly constricting throat Fenris came explosively. He resisted the urge to throw his head back, keeping his eyes locked on the image of the mage instead and grunting hoarsely as his seed spurted down an eager throat. 

Completely spent, Fenris allowed himself to sink slowly to his knees, softening cock sliding from Anders’ lips with a wet sound and a line of saliva trailing after for a time. He settled on the ground before the other man, knee to knee, panting heavily. Before him Anders was wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, his eyes burning with unbridled desire and arousal. 

“Maker, you’re delicious elf.” the human breathed, his molten gaze raking over Fenris. “I swear I could almost come just from looking at you, to say nothing of your actual taste.” he added in a delighted purr, licking his lips obscenely.

“Then show me.” Fenris commanded in a low growl. “Come at the sight of me, with the taste of me on your lips.” 

Anders shuddered at his words, his smoldering eyes sliding closed for a moment. When they opened again and fixed on Fenris his pupils where blown so wide as to nearly eclipse the irises and his cheeks where flushed in a very appealing manner. “Delightful as that sounds, I want you in me when I come.” he stated, a faint note of pleading in his voice. “I want to feel your cock inside me, fucking me. Please Fenris...” This time the pleading was not in the least bit subtle and the images the mage’s words conjured in Fenris’ head had his heart thundering in his chest and his flaccid cock giving a feeble twitch of interest.

“If that is what you desire, Mage, then you will have to wait a little I am afraid.” Fenris did not bother to keep his own disappointment at the statement from his voice. “I will need time to recover.” 

Anders’ searing gaze intensified and his lips curled in a new smirk. “I can help with that, if you’ll let me.” he said playfully, lifting his hands before him and waggling his fingers in mock mysticism while soft blue light began to radiate from them.

Fenris grimaced, magic, of course. He knew the mage had a reputation for using his gift in bed but he had never considered this particular application. Eager as he was to continue their activities Fenris was not at all sure if he was willing to allow magic to be cast upon him so carelessly. 

“It will be just like receiving healing magic during battle.” Anders pleaded, extending his hands towards the elf slowly.

Fenris hesitated for the span of a heartbeat before nodding in acquiescence. Anders’ hands cupped his face, his flesh unnaturally warm with the tingle of magic, and pressed their foreheads together. Magic thrummed thru his veins and set his brands alight, the lyrium warming with the magic in a strangely pleasant fashion. He felt his weariness lifting until only an energized alertness was left to him. 

When the magic faded and his brands began to cool Fenris wasted no time in exploiting his second wind. He leapt at the mage, tackling him to the ground and startling a cry from him. He stradled the human’s narrow hips and pinned his hands above his head before capturing the mage’s lips with his own, his kiss fierce and dominating. He plunged his tongue between those soft lips, already parted and begging him to plunder that sweet mouth. The mage tasted phenomenal, like honey and magic and sex.

Anders moaned beneath him, struggling half heartedly against Fenris’ hold on his hands and rolling his hips wantonly under the elf’s firm buttocks. Fenris shifted his grip so that he could hold the mage’s thin wrists with only one hand, bringing the other down to undo the mage’s robes. He made quick work of the buckles in his haste, even with only one hand. 

When he had done all he could otherwise Fenris pulled away, sitting back on his haunches and breaking their kiss with a pop, releasing the mage’s hands so that he could have both of his own free to tug Anders’ coat from his shoulders. The mage sat up as well, pulling his own under-robe off over his head and leaving him bare to the waist. He was more solidly built than Fenris would have expected, wiry muscles shifting under pale skin that was gilded with downy golden hairs, thickest along the trail that led from navel to groin.

He was also forcefully reminded of why he was here in the first place, the mage was exceptionally thin, nearly unhealthily so, only the tiniest scrap of fat between soft skin and hard muscles or covering his stark ribs. Despite this the mage was still lovely, golden hair over white skin over lean muscle creating a breathtaking picture. Fenris growled at the sight, raking gauntleted hands down the man’s torso, leaving angry red trails on porcelain flesh and causing Anders to hiss and writhe beneath him in a manner that was clearly more pleased than anything else. 

Fenris leaned forward to nuzzle at the graceful arch of the mage’s neck, huffing with annoyance when an image of Carver doing the same thing came unbidden to his mind and outright growling when he spotted the dark ring that bore further testament to the act, marking the juncture where neck met shoulder. A primal possessiveness overtook the elf then, he chose a spot beside Carver’s mark, a little higher on Anders’ slender neck and bit down. Determined to outdo the cocky younger human Fenris also sucked and worried at the bite, causing the mage to moan loudly in his ear as he leaned into it. 

“Oh Andraste yes.” Anders whined, his hips bucking as Fenris continued to claim him. “Please Fenris,” he started to beg. “I can’t take much more of this!”

There was no suppressing the chuckle that rumbled from his throat as the needy mage pleaded with him. He would be damned for eternity for it he knew, but venhedis if this wasn’t the best feeling in the world. To have the headstrong and unconquerable Anders beneath him, helpless and begging, desperate for Fenris to take him. He could not remember ever being this aroused. 

He claimed the mages lips once more in a brief but searing kiss before pushing him onto his back once more. Anders hissed in displeasure this time when his back came in contact with the hard, cold, and dirty ground but he did not otherwise complain. Fenris smirked at him pulling his gauntlets and breastplate off quickly and tossing them aside while Anders fumbled with the laces of his trousers. He was so clumsy with need that he required Fenris’ aid in the end, but soon the mage was completely bare before him. 

Impatient as always Anders lifted his own legs, clutching them to his chest and presenting himself to the elf. “I’m already prepared from before and I’m tired of waiting. In.” he commanded.

Fenris did not have the presence of mind to argue with him, taking his own engorged cock in hand he lined it up with the mage’s entrance and pushed forward roughly. His ‘preparation’ had indeed been thorough but it had happened a while ago and Fenris himself was not lubricated so the going was a tad tough at first, but once the thick tip of the elf’s cock had breached Anders’ entrance he was able to slide in completely with little resistance. Both men moaned at their joining, chests heaving and sweat beading at their brows as Fenris threw Anders legs over his shoulders and began a slow but powerful pace.

Fenris lost himself to the steady rhythm, letting his eyes slide closed as he basked in the exquisite pleasure of the mage’s tight hole and the pleased moans that poured from his lips. Maker, those blessed sounds again. Now that Fenris was closer and his mind more open he could more fully appreciate their beauty. They electrified him and pushed him to increase his pace in a frenzy to hear more of them, and Anders did not disappoint. As Fenris’ pace increased so did the mage’s wanton cries, growing louder and higher as the elf went faster and faster until they where little more than a continuous keening wail of pleasure and his hips where pistoning as fast as they could. 

He opened his eyes once more then, eager to see the ecstacy his ears had relayed to him. Every artist in Orlais and the Anderfels combined would have killed to see something half as beautiful as Anders in this moment. He was art made reality, in his wildest dreams Fenris could not have created an image more exquisite than the one that greeted his eyes. The mage’s arms where raised above him, his fingers buried in his own hair, back slightly arched, skin flushed, mouth agape as he cried out, his long and lovely shaft arching towards his navel and leaking precum onto his taut belly. 

“Venhedis, you are beautiful Mage.” Fenris growled.

Anders’ eyes flew open at his statement, wide with surprise for an instant as their gazes met before sliding half closed again with pleasure at the look of sincere desire and appreciation that greeted him in emerald depths. Fenris buckled under the weight of that gaze, it’s heat searing him to his core. He let the mage’s legs slide from his shoulders as he fell forward, his hands bracing at either side of the human’s chest, while Anders brought his own arms up to hook loosely around Fenris’ neck. 

The new angle must have done something right, Anders’ eyes fluttered shut again for an instant as Fenris continued to thrust, his back arched up off the ground entirely and the pitch of his moans changed. And Fenris thought the mage could not have gotten any more enticing. If this kept up then he would come completely undone in no time. 

Desperate for more Fenris brought one of his hands up to trail over the mage’s torso, tracing the raised welts his gauntlets had left earlier and enjoying the feel of the mage’s surprisingly soft skin and the slightly rougher texture of downy hair under his bare fingers. He kept his gaze locked with that of the mage as his hand traveled ever lower, still thrusting hard and fast when he almost shyly brushed the weeping head of Anders’ neglected cock.

A hiss interrupted Anders’ moans and his hips bucked involuntarily, throwing off Fenris’ rhythm for a moment. This reaction emboldened the elf, he began to wrap his fingers more fully about the mage’s straining shaft, only to have his hand jerked away suddenly. He looked to Anders with confusion his gaze searching, but the mage shook his head in admonishment.

“I have... a hnn.. point to prove” he panted as way of explanation. “I will... fuck yesss... come from your... of fuck... cock alone.” 

Fenris snorted, he had completely forgotten what had started this little encounter and was duly impressed that not only had the mage managed it but that he was sticking to his plan even now. “Then... show me... Mage." he growled. “Prove... how much you... enjoy my cock." With a somewhat disbelieving grunt Fenris upped his pace again, toying with the angle of his thrusts until the mage was keening inarticulately once more. 

He continued this for some time, distantly aware of a growing ache in his back and knees and in his muscles but not caring. All that mattered was the electrifying pleasure that was coursing thru him and the enchanting cries of the mage beneath him. Again he felt the the telltale heat and pressure of release building in his belly and loins. What would come of the mage’s argument if Fenris came first? 

That question would prove to be pointless tho, as soon as he thought it the mage clutched him more tightly, choking down his moans. “Oh fuck yes! Fenris I’m gonna come!” he warned before throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut, back arching off the ground once more and hips bucking uncontrollably as semen spurted from his untouched cock, adding a pearly shimmer to the mage’s white-gold abdomen. 

Fenris was completely thrown off by both the sight and the frantic bucking of the mage as his muscles clamped tight around him, so beautiful... and so fucking good... With a low roar Fenris found his own release. His vision blurred and mind hazed, thrusting frantically into the mage’s unbelievably tight arse, the clenching muscles milking him dry and making him feel pleasantly drained.

“Mm.. I told you...” the mage panted, his chest heaving. “Nothin’ wrong... with taking... a little cock... from time to time.” he giggled to himself then, sounding ever so slightly mad. “Well not so little in this case.” he joked. 

Fenris smirked at him but was cut off from speaking by an indignant voice ringing from the doorway. “You hypocritical prick! You just wanted him for yourself!” shrieked Carver Hawke.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my various gods! So late in coming but I did it! It's finally freaking finished. Hope y'all enjoy. Comments and constructive criticism encouraged.

“Oh, hullo Carver.” said Anders with amusement, tilting his head backwards to look at the younger man upside down with a lazy smile on his face. “M’surprised to see you back!”

Carver glared at him, flushing crimson. “I left my sword and guantlets here...” He muttered embarrassedly “I’d be punished if I returned to the Gallows without them...”

Anders’ golden eyes traveled to the table where the gear in question lie with a look of contemplation on his face that somehow seemed to turn progressively more mischievous with each passing second. After a span of a couple of heartbeats the mage seemed to have formulated some sort of plan, his lips curling in a sly grin and eyes twinkling as he wriggled out from under the spent elf.

He leaned close to Fenris then, speaking in a low and seductive tone. “ Sit tight and watch, Ser Elf, and I promise you won’t be disappointed with what you see."

Fenris grunted noncommittally, unsure of what he was getting himself in to but chose to stay where he was. He watched with tired and somewhat bewildered amusement as the slender human rose to his feet with a sensuous and slightly predatory grace, loping towards the younger male in an unexpectedly enticing manner, his back strait and hips swaying. The hunger and longing in Carver’s crystalline eyes was unmistakable as Anders approached him, his flush of embarrassment turning to one of arousal.

“I’m glad you forgot them, we didn’t get to finish." the mage purred in a low voice, he turned slightly to glance at Fenris over his shoulder and winked before turning his attention back to Carver. “I suppose I should make it up to you." he continued, his voice dripping with honeyed promises that made Fenris’stomach flutter with desire.

Carver’s gaze hardened suddenly at Anders’ approach, “What about him?" he asked sullenly, glaring at Fenris.

“What about him indeed?" the mage repeated in a low and seductive voice. Without preamble he wrapped himself about the young templar in a manner exceeding similar to how he entwined himself with the elf earlier and a jealous growl came unbidden to the Fenris’ lips at the sight.

For his part Carver did not seem at all displeased to have a naked and wanting Anders in his arms. One hand fisted impatiently in golden hair while the other clutched at a pale ass cheek as he kissed the older man in an unnecessarily possessive manner, his gaze still fixed on Fenris.

_Mine, not yours_ , he seemed to be saying. Sky blue eyes glowering with silent rage and dislike even as they glittered with lust. Fenris could not suppress a sneer at the human’s display. ‘ _If he is yours then why is it my seed trickling down his thigh_?' he thought back with venom. Worse yet was Anders’ hungry, almost theatrical moans as Carver laid claim to him, writhing against the heavy templar armor.

A distant part of Fenris’ mind knew that Anders was toying with him, with both of them, knew that all of this was some twisted and perverse game. However his carnal, primal side had always been especially powerful, and _that_ part of him saw only a challenge that could not be ignored. He should have left them to it, walked away and let the depraved little whore have his fun without him but there was no turning back now, he had a mage to tame and two upstart rivals to put in their places.

He would let the mage continue his game for the time being however, he had already come twice in rapid succession tonight, he hadn’t the energy to take the reigns just yet. No he would wait and watch. He pulled himself up onto a nearby cot and made himself comfortable, watching as Anders demonstrated what seemed to be a disturbingly good grasp of the mechanics of templar armor. Still ensnared in Carver’s dominating grasp and already he had the young buck half undressed, steel plate falling to the floor with a dull crash in record time.

Detestable as he found the human, Fenris had to admit that Carver was impressive. He had none of the lean grace that Anders and himself possessed but he made up for it aplenty with sheer and undeniable power. All massive shoulders, broad chest and strong arms, thick with sculpted muscle that shifted under sun bronzed skin in a very pleasing fashion. And the abomination had not been jesting about the size of his manhood, fully erect he was half the length and width of Fenris’ forearm!

Anders couldn’t seem to keep his hands off the young man. Slender hands roamed over smooth skin, tracing etched muscles and stroking that impressive shaft with almost worshipful attentiveness while he peppered kisses along the templar’s wide shoulders and thick neck. He slid his left hand upwards from where it had been tracing the lines of Carver’s muscled abdomen to fiddle with a dusky nipple instead, eliciting a pleased grunt from the templar while his right hand continued to stroke his thick cock lazily.

There was a brief humming sound and two tiny flashes of light and Fenris watched with interest as electricity sparked from Anders fingers to Carver’s nipple and cock. The young templar loosed a ferocious growl at the contact, back arching and hips bucking once. Then there was a blur of motion, nearly faster than even Fenris’ trained eyes could catch, in the span of a heartbeat Carver had seized the mage by the neck with one massive hand and pinned him against the door with a resounding thud.

Outraged Fenris made to get to his feet to intervene but Carver threw him a thunderous glare while Anders laughed delightedly. He threw the mage a nervous and questioning glance but Anders smiled at him, raising a hand in a placating gesture and doing his best to nod reassuringly. Carver’s expression turned disgustingly cocky at this, his nose upturned and upper lip curled in a sneer. _See? He **is** mine, and he loves it_. Fenris was unimpressed, he smiled blandly back at the templar, making a mental note to prove the bastard wrong later.

Fenris’ lack of response seemed to incense the young human, his nostrils flaring and face flushing with anger as he turned back to Anders with a snarl. Fenris watched as emotions seemed to war on the mage’s face, caught between irritation, hesitation, and lust. Lust won out in the end though, when Carver wrapped his other arm about the mage’s waist and lifted him off the ground, thrusting roughly upwards. The mage started to cry out, but the pleased shout quickly became a wheezing gargle as Carver’s grip tightened on his slender throat.

He made to intervene once more but he could see the lustful ecstacy in Anders’ wide eyes, mirrored by his newly erect and twitching cock. He could only stare, slack jawed, at this. It was far beyond his experience. The depraved mage was enjoying himself, even roughly treated and half strangled. He found himself being thankful that this was not the scene he had walked in on initially. If it had been then Carver would be dead and he would be soon to follow, either by Hawke’s hand or Anders’.

As it was he instead found himself becoming grudgingly impressed with Carver, his strength, his stamina, and his unflinching boldness. Anders had wrapped his long legs about the templar’s waist and was now supported only by the young man himself, with some minor help from the wall at the mage’s back. And even so Carver was thrusting hard and fast, tearing hoarse and hungry moans from the abomination, with no sign of slowing.

It made Fenris ache to watch, his cock awakening and skin tingling with hot desire. He could not help but take his length in hand as he put himself in Carver’s place, imagining that it was him that held the gasping mage, wringing those throaty cries from him. Oh how he wished that it where true!

He was growing increasingly weary of his passive role, the show was certainly very nice, but if he didn’t get another piece of that mage soon then he would surely explode. He climbed to his feet with a low grunt, stalking towards the pair with rather different body language than the abomination had displayed earlier. There was no questioning the predatory nature of his approach, no playful and seductive theatrics, only a hungry wolf out for blood.

Carver was too preoccupied to pay him any heed but Anders saw him, watching with heavy lidded eyes and a pleased smile. He winked at the elf again, his expression just shy of smug, before a jealous Carver demanded his full attention once more by way of fierce and passionate kisses. Fenris fumed at the sight, closing the distance between himself and the amorous pair with a venomous snarl.

He grabbed Carver by the shoulder and tugged roughly, forcing the other warrior to turn to him with blue eyes blazing angrily. The templar prepared to protest but Fenris cut him off with a swift blow to the jaw, causing Carver to stagger backwards with a grunt of pain. Anders fell from his arms and landed on his feet with surprising grace, almost as if he’d been expecting it, an amused grin on his flushed face.

  
Fenris seized the ridiculous mage with a fierce growl, grabbing a fistful of golden hair and yanking him forward. There was a fiery flash of irritation in amber eyes and an indignant snarl began to form on kiss bruised lips, but both where quickly quashed as he claimed the human’s mouth with his own. He was filled with victorious pride as bronze lashes fluttered closed with bliss and the snarl morphed into a greedy groan as their tongues intertwined.  
  
To say that Carver was unamused would have been a grievous understatement. He spluttered with seething fury, cursing most profanely and calling Fenris a wide array of foul names. Crimson blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, dripping on to his chest, but he did not bother to wipe it away as he charged for the elf with fists raised.

Fenris growled bestially at his approaching rival, jade eyes flashing an angry warning, but he did not loose the mage. Instead he attempted to pull the tall human more firmly against himself though Anders had other ideas. As Carver drew level with them he extricated himself from the elven warrior’s embrace just slightly, turning a little to look over his shoulder at his furious fellow human.

Whatever was in Anders expression must have been profound because Carver seemed to calm almost instantly. His chest still heaved with rage, and his eyes where like tiny twin thunderstorms, but his fists lowered, his stance became less aggressive and his approach slowed. Fenris saw the mage’s lips curl into a tender smile at the reaction, nuzzling against Carvers jaw fondly when the templar was close enough.

Still attempting to pierce Fenris with a glare, Carver slid up behind Anders, one large hand rested on a narrow hip while the other cradled his golden head almost tenderly. The mage made a sound somewhere between a sigh and purr as he leaned back against the young warrior, craning his neck to exchange languid kisses. One slender arm raised to press graceful fingers to Carver’s clean shaven jaw, a tiny burst of healing magic causing the templar to grunt softly.

Had he not been so damnably aroused Fenris would have felt excluded, a part of him already felt a tad inadequate and useless, but this part of himself was tiny and inconsequential in the face of his burning need. All he could really focus on at the moment was how delectable the damned abomination’s neck looked, stretched and bared to him as it was. He pressed himself against the mage, his own arm winding about the human’s slender waist, as he stretched to put teeth to pale flesh.

Anders moaned into Carver’s kisses, hips bucking once as the elf marked him again and again, biting and suckling along his neck, jaw, and collar bone. Emboldened by this Fenris brought his spare hand up to stroke the pulsing manhood that seemed to be doing a good job of spearing his abdomen. The desperate, greedy groan this pulled from the mage was exquisite.

Carver seemed to agree, his eyes snapping open to look at Fenris. For the first time there was no rage there, just approval and no small amount of lust. The templar removed his hand from the mage’s hip, sliding up the smooth porcelain abdomen to tweak a rosy nipple. When the delightful groan was repeated blue eyes finally slid shut once more with contentment and Fenris allowed his own to follow. 

They focused all their attention on Anders, working together to wring all the beautiful sounds from the mage that they could, and they where well rewarded for their efforts. The kisses he shared with Carver grew hungrier and more demanding while a pale hand found it’s way to Fenris’ cock, expertly repeating the ministrations received. All the while the mage all but danced between them, his voice a song more enchanting than any Fenris had ever heard as he cried out for them.

Once he knew he had them good and hooked Anders broke the spell that had ensorcelled his to companions, figuratively speaking. He released Fenris and ended his kiss with Carver as he wriggled out from between them. Both men stood panting, looking at the mage like starving wolves staring down their next meal, but Anders merely smiled at them, he was the one holding all the cards this evening and they all knew it. This was his game.

“I have a plan,” he murmured, rather unnecessarily in Fenris’ opinion. The fact that the abomination was up to something was clear from the moment Carver first walked through the door. “If you would indulge me a little, my pets?”

Carver and Fenris both gave identical huffs of irritation that caused Anders’ strained expression of poorly repressed amusement to resurface, amber eyes twinkling. “What is it mage?” Fenris growled, displeased with the current lull in activity.

“I want to do something I haven’t done in far to long, and I think the two of you would appreciate it as well.” he responded evasively. He crossed to the rickety bit of wood that passed for his desk and took up a glass vial full of clear liquid that had stood upon it, before grabbing the largest and least ragged of blankets from the shelves along the wall. He spread the latter out on a spare bit of floor, ignoring his irritated bedmates.

When he was finished he turned to Carver with a mischievous and enigmatic smile on his lips. “Lay on your back.” He said, indicating the blanket beside him, his tone bland, neither a request nor a command but a statement.

Carver snorted but complied, receiving a tender kiss for his obedience when he did. Anders wasted no time. He poured a goodly portion of the vial’s contents into the palm of his hand using it to thoroughly coat Carver’s still very interested member, much to the young templar’s approval. Still clutching Carver’s thick shaft Anders moved to straddle him, aligning the tip with his entrance and seating himself in one easy motion. Both humans groaned and Anders seemed to quiver slightly with anticipation before turning to look at Fenris over his shoulder.

“Now you.” He said breathlessly. “Come kneel behind us and take me as well.”

Fenris was dumbfounded, and by the look on his face so was Carver.The elf knew what the abomination was asking, but it was ludicrous! He had once been forced to watch as a disobedient bed-slave was punished in such a manner. The man’s shrieks of pain and pathetic pleading still haunted his dreams sometimes, so much blood...

“You are completely out of your mind mage! Why would you think I would participate in such a thing!?” Fenris knew that his fear and revulsion was very evident in his tone, Anders looked positively taken aback, but he did not have the presence of mind to care.

The mage groaned with exaggerated exasperation. “Maker’s fucking balls Fenris!” he cursed “All this work, and you still don’t trust me!?”

Carver ran one large hand along his lover’s spine placatingly. “Perhaps he’s right Magey.” he muttered. “This sounds crazy.”

Anders rolled his eyes at the both of them. “Do either of you listen to me? Ever?” Carver snorted in response. “No, of course you don’t... Well if you did you’d have noticed the part where I said I’ve done this before. This may come as a surprise to the two of you but I know what I’m doing.” another snort from Carver and a teasing smirk, Fenris was to worried and dumbfounded still to participate in their banter.

“Please trust me you two, enough preparation and lubrication and this can be very very good. I promise you’ll enjoy yourselves. Please?” There it was again, that pleading whine that shot down Fenris’ spine and went right to his cock, every damned time.

“I am more concerned for your well being, Mage.” Fenris mumbled in a low growl.

And there was that Maker damned smirk again, no less irritating now despite it’s new found attractiveness. “This is just an extension of our earlier ‘discussion’. It’s asking a lot but trust me, I’ll enjoy myself aplenty. For Andraste’s sake I am literally asking for it. You won’t break me I promise.”

“Will one of you just cave already before I go bloody bonkers?” Carver growled with frustration, rocking his hips once by way of illustration and causing Anders to gasp. “I will have to get back to the damned Gallows at some point tonight and I still haven’t fucking cum yet!”

“You heard the lad, Elf.” said Anders with his smirk still firmly in place, though it’s target had changed. “Join us or leave us to it.... although I’d really rather that first one if you please.”

He was being given a way out. A chance to walk away. He very nearly took it too, but the smug, possessive glint in Carver’s eyes gave him pause. Hadn’t he vowed to put these upstarts in their places? He felt his hesitation bleed away as his pride and jealousy came thundering back in a rush. He would not flee ‘like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs’ as Anders had said earlier about Carver.

No, he was through with running. When he came to Kirkwall he swore that he would never be cowed again, that he would not allow his master to rule him. He had never considered this particular application of that vow but it was a glorious thought now, just another way to spit in the faces of those that would tie him down. Another stich to pull from his old wounds. And the abomination had not lied thus far, Fenris had enjoyed himself tonight in ways he would never have been able to conceive of before, given his limited experience.

  
He steeled himself, back straight and hands clenched in to fists, his head held high as he approached them. The pleased look Anders gave him was so perfectly opposed to Carver’s disappointment as to make the elf genuinely chuckle, then grin wolfishly when this only caused further approval and irritation from Anders and Carver both, respectively. Soon he was standing behind the mage, towering over him in his seated position.

Taking hold of the man’s tousled hair he pulled his head back so that Anders was forced to look to the ceiling, but not for long before Fenris was plundering his mouth with a heated, upside down kiss. He turned emerald eyes to azure ones then, watching Carver watching them and finding the templar’s fuming jealousy empowering and bizarrely arousing. _Ours_. The slight curl to Carver’s lip indicated that he got the message and was not pleased with it.

The young buck thrust upwards then, a clear act of defiance, causing Anders to be rocked upwards and their teeth to clack together. The mage grunted, half with annoyance and half with pleasure. He swatted Carver’s belly as way of playful reprimand before pressing a final slightly apologetic kiss to Fenris’ lips as he pulled away. He handed the elf the vial of what was clearly a lubricant of some kind, his eyebrows raised and smiling slyly as he humored Carver’s growing frustration by rocking himself back and forth along the young man’s neglected erection.

Carver somehow managed to growl triumphantly, meeting the mage’s slow rocking with hard thrusts that made the older man moan wantonly. Not to be left out again Fenris knelt behind Anders and upturned the proffered bottle over his hand, coating himself generously with the slick oily substance. He seized the mage by the hips and pushed him down roughly, forcing him to still and causing Carver’s upwards thrust to impale the mage in a way that caused Anders to shout hoarsely.

Blue eyes narrowed in a murderous glare that turned instead to bitter resentment when it became apparent that the abomination was rather pleased instead of injured. Fenris sneered smugly at his young rival as he aligned himself with Anders’ occupied entrance. He repeated to himself what the mage had said, that this was merely an extension of their earlier discussion, that this would not rend the fool in two, and slowly began to push inside.

It was an incredibly tight fit, Carver was very large and Fenris was very nervous. Each second he expected the mage to scream in agony or to see blood trickle onto the blanket below, but only breathless grunts greeted his ears and only excess oil dripped from Anders’ arse, somewhat milky from earlier activities but devoid of blood. After what was among the most heart pounding seconds of Fenris’ life he was finally fully seated within the mage once more and he understood the appeal of this depraved activity immediately.

It was unspeakably pleasurable, his cock was sheathed in a vice that was nearly uncomfortably tight and warm. He could feel Carver’s manhood twitch and pulse against his own, feel the abominations muscles clench and ripple around them both with exaggerated detail, the tiniest movement from either party causing a wave of bliss that easily tore a low moan from the elf’s lips before his dignity could reign it in.

He realized that he had shut his eyes tight, his forehead resting against Anders’ trembling back. Slowly he brought his head up and opened his eyes, peering at Carver over the mage’s shoulder. Sweat beaded on the young man’s brow and was running in rivulets over his sculpted torso. His eyes where slightly open still, slivers of purest pleasure that where fixed on Anders face, glinting with hints of emotions Fenris knew only for their foolishness and danger.

With a shuddering gasp Anders lifted his hanging head, running a shaking hand along Carver’s jaw and brushing a sweat soaked lock of ebon hair from the templar’s forehead. “You can move now, Fenris.” he panted. “Please.” he added a moment later, his tone pleading and voice breaking slightly as Carver caught the hand that had been stroking his face and pressed the slender fingertips to his lips.

Fenris grunted his affirmative, he did not trust his voice for much more at the moment. His hands where still holding tightly to the mage’s hips and he used this as leverage to slowly pull himself out. Anders moaned and Carver grunted, he did not think this could get any better but the slow friction was exquisite. When only his tip was still in he began another slow push back and Anders hissed. At first he thought he had hurt the man but before he could express his concern he was cut off by the mage’s cry of “Faster, damn you!” With a huff of irritation Fenris complied. He thrust forward roughly, causing the other two men to groan as he began a hard and much faster pace.

“Feel free to join in when you’re ready Carver.” the mage panted after a short time. The templar nodded his understanding.

Large hands seized the blonde’s shoulders and pulled him down so that they lay chest to chest. A moment later Carver was adding his own slow thrusts and Fenris could not suppress his surprised grunt. The sensation created by the young man’s additional movements was completely beyond description, strange and foreign and absolutely incredible.

Yet amidst the plethora of conflicting emotions Fenris began to feel a little foolish. Earlier today he would have been utterly unable to even conceive of such pleasures. From his first moment of awareness upon losing his memory he had been taught that the company of other men could only be a torment and he had never once questioned it. To him it had been as undeniable a fact as the color of the sky or the vastness of the sea, but here he was, participating in an act he would have considered among the most cruel of tortures with a very willing ‘victim’, if the abomination’s blissfully depraved cries where anything to go off of. It rankled him greatly, the realization of just how deeply his master’s poison flowed. He felt robbed, cheated even, and a bit ashamed that he had allowed it to happen.

No longer, he would revel in this new freedom, Denarius be damned. He let his eyes slide shut and pushed his former master from his mind, focusing instead upon the various pleasures that assaulted him, the heat of the mage beneath him, slick and tight, the sensual slide of the templar’s cock against his own. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud in his own ears it lent it’s frantic rhythm to the chorus of wanton noises they all made, creating a primal sort of music that made him feel alive in a way he had never felt before.

Before long he began to notice that the abomination was quickly being reduced to little more than a quivering bundle of need, the calm control he’d maintained all evening was crumbling. Fenris had seen the man brought to raw desperation already tonight but even then he had had unquestionable command of himself and the situation, now he was as debauched and bare as he’d made them. His plan was backfiring somewhat, he was losing himself, his opponents exultant in the knowledge of their victory.

He was panting and struggling visibly to pull his control back around himself like a cloak as he pulled away from Carver with trembling arms. Fenris would have none of it. He grabbed Anders by the back of the neck in a tight grip and the abomination froze instinctively with a small moan, his head falling back against the elf’s shoulder where he could see amber eyes losing focus, his mouth falling partially slack. The warrior took advantage of the momentary stillness to pull the mage’s face towards his, kissing him with dominating hunger even as he increased his pace.

He whimpered in to Fenris’ mouth, one slender hand clutching at snowy hair tightly as he trembled. He broke the kiss quickly, bumping foreheads with Fenris with a sigh as Carver, not to be out done, matched the elf’s new tempo thrust for thrust. The look Anders gave him was breathtaking. There was a lusty sort of brokenness to his expression, the look of a man completely undone.

He tilted his head to the side to look at Carver with an expression full of earnest pleading, his eyes still slightly unfocused and pink lips parted as he panted. The young man flashed them both a cocky grin as he took hold of the mage’s length, pumping it swiftly. After only a few strokes Anders howled, to far gone to even play at being in control any longer as he spent himself over Carver’s hand and torso, one wayward strand even managing to land upon the templar’s chin and lower cheek.

This proved to be to much for Carver, the mage’s clenching pushed him over the edge as well, and with one especially violent thrust and a breathless cry he emptied himself, buried deep within the older man. Fenris was not long to follow, a few pounding heartbeats later and he found his own release, burying his face against the mage’s back as he cried out.

He must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knew he was laying on his side on the ground, cleaned up and with his head pillowed on another blanket. He felt exhausted in a way that he had not since early in his exodus to Kirkwall, back when the fear of his master would still drive him to run until he collapsed. This was a much better kind of exhaustion, he decided. He was overcome with another feeling he had never felt before. Sated. He was completely sated for the first time he could remember. It was very nice.

Several feet away he could see Anders, still bare as a new born babe but cleaner than before and with red-gold hair freshly brushed, helping Carver in to his armor. They where speaking softly to each other, too quiet for Fenris to hear the words but the tone was light and playful. When they’d finished Carver grabbed hold of the mage, pulling him close with a boyish grin on his face that was sincere and open in a way that Fenris had never seen on the brooding young man. It was a good look. With blue eyes still open and sparkling the templar kissed Anders, deep and rough and somehow tender too, before releasing him again with a firm squeeze of the mage’s arse.

Anders laughed, high and clear and full of joy. It was strange for Fenris to hear, he realized that he had never heard the mage laugh, at least not in a way that was not meant to be mocking or mirthless. It was a good sound. He understood now why so many of his friends had a weakness for him, without his pet demon interfering and once he dropped his guard the abomination was endearing and more than a little addicting.

After another quick peck of a kiss Carver bid the mage farewell and turned to leave. He paused when he reached the doorway tho, something just outside having caught his attention. He bent and must have picked something up because a moment later he turned back around with a basket in his hand. Hawke’s basket, Fenris realized. He had completely forgotten about it, his reason for even being here in the first place. He sat up slowly, his head pounding and vision swimming a little as Carver rummaged through the care package.

“Food, it looks like.” He called to Anders as he brought it over. “Expensive, homemade food by the looks of it.”

Anders visibly winced. “From Hakwe I bet, Andraste’s tits!”he cursed sounding just a little little frightened. “I forgot she would be dropping by, I pray she just heard the ruckus we were making and left without investigating. She’ll fucking kill me otherwise!”

Carver snorted. “My sister not stick her nose in someone else’s business? Not bloody likely.”

“I brought the basket.” Fenris called to them, both starting a bit when he did. “It is why I was here to begin with.”

“Oh thank the Maker!” Anders exclaimed. “He really cares about me after all.”

He positively pranced over to Carver at the news that Hawke was certainly not out for his blood and relieved the young templar of his burden to rifle through the basket on his own. He hummed appreciatively as he instantly began stuffing food into his face, some form of pastry by the look of it. He handed Carver a couple, producing a bottle of wine when his hand was emptied, he pulled the cork with his teeth and took a long swig before passing the bottle to Carver too, who drunk deeply as well and passed it back. Anders unloaded a couple more items on Carver who laughed a little with a shake of his head and turned to leave before the mage could give away his entire meal.

When Carver was gone completely Anders turned to Fenris and approached him, plopping on to the blanket happily as he continued to inhale food. He passed the elf a yet unopened bottle of wine and a couple pastries without comment, to preoccupied with eating to bother with speaking. Fenris watched Anders with amusement as he pulled the cork from the other bottle of wine and drank from it, glad for Hawke’s exquisite taste.

They ate and drank in relative silence, Anders to busy to speak and Fenris unsure of what to say. He was not at all sure of where he stood with the mage now and was certainly not up to thinking on it at the moment. So he drank wine and nibbled on sweets, trying to occupy his mind with anything but his own emotions. He let his eyes wander over the clinic and his thoughts wandered with them, thinking of nothing and everything.

“Carver is in love with you.” He blurted after a time. He had not meant to speak, but his mind had returned to this topic repeatedly for some reason, remembering the young templar’s fathomless jealousy, gentle touches, and the stolen glances full of meaning.

Anders winced and swallowed his mouthful thickly. “You think so too huh?” his gaze turned distant as he stared at the door.”Damn it all, I’d hoped I was imagining it...”

“Why is it such a bad thing?” Fenris queried, genuinely curious, he could think of several reasons why but he wanted to hear the mage voice them himself.

Anders snorted. “Aside from my impending castration when Hawke finds out?” he asked rhetorically. “Oh so many many reasons.” he added with a small sigh.

“Well there’s the whole mage/templar thing, that’s kind of a big deal.” he said flippantly “Do you have any idea what the order would do to him if they ever found out about us?” his face soured and his voice became brittle and bitter. “Not only aiding and abetting a wanted apostate but _actually in love with one_? Maker’s mercy, it would be a fate worse than death for the both of us! They’d force him to make me tranquil himself, make him watch as all the light left my eyes, but not before they beat, raped, and tortured the both of us first. Then he would receive a public execution, as an example to the rest. That would be the merciful part...”

Fenris’stomach churned, not so much at what he was hearing as the fact that he did not doubt it in the least. It was unspeakably cruel, but effective. If the scenario had not included people he knew he would likely have supported it, and knowing this made him hate himself a bit. Beside him Anders took a shuddering breath, shaking his head before he continued, pushing away dark thoughts and bad memories no doubt.

“Beside all... that.” he said, waving his hand as if he was both indicating his worst nightmare and trying to banish it at the same time. “I’m much to old for him, broken too. He’s still so young and full of potential, he deserves better than me. I’ll break his heart, and that would destroy me as surely as the brand would.”

Fenris was a little taken aback. “You love him too!” he exclaimed, and instantly regretted it. Anders looked at him dejectedly, eyes full of sorrow and heartache. He had only ever seen the mage look this way once before and it was right before he plunged a dagger into the gut of whom he later learned was the man’s former lover.

Anders turned away again, looking at the door once more with a forlorn expression. “Maker save me, I do.” he sighed brokenly. “I would do anything to keep him safe though, even... even push him away.”

“I am sorry.” Fenris said softly. “I should not have brought all this up.”

“No, you probably shouldn’t have.” Anders said with a small and humorless chuckle. “But someone needed to, I can’t keep running from it forever. I need to ‘turn and face the tiger’ is the phrase you’d use I think.” he sighed deeply then and offered Fenris a kind smile, small but sincere. “I’ll have to talk with him, really talk, and soon. Andraste’s flaming knicker weasels, but that will be a difficult conversation.”

Fenris could not suppress his snort at the mage’s colorful language and the bizarre mental image it conjured, and it was immediately apparent that that had been it’s intended effect. In an instant the tension was cut considerably and Anders was able to offer him a slightly wider smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes but it communicated what it needed to. That everything would be alright.

With a shake of his head and clap to Fenris’ back Anders returned his attention to the basket once more, he put the last of the pastries in his mouth, eating it without hands as he packed away everything but the wine bottle he’d given Fenris and climbing to his feet again.

“You look beat.”he said ruefully. Fenris could only yawn widely in response. “Well you’re welcome to spend the night here if you’d like, in fact I recommend it, you don’t look up to a journey to Hightown right now. You can take a cot out here, or join me if you’d like.”

“I will take to a cot out here if you do not mind.” he replied sleepily.

He had seen the mage sleep, he tossed and turned with nightmares all night long and Fenris knew that he was not much better himself, it was kind of the mage to offer but if they shared a bed neither of them would get any quality sleep. Not to mention that waking up next to a man he had detested the morning before would cause a flood of introspections that Fenris knew he would not be up to first thing in the morning.

Anders nodded his understanding and offered the elf a hand up. Any other day Fenris would have declined it with disdain, but too much had changed and he was to damned tired to bother being contrary now. He gave the mage his hand and was embarrassed to find that he would not have been able to stand on his own. As it was the mage had to lift him almost entirely under his own strength, and once standing the elf swayed and tottered and would surely have fallen if not for Anders guiding him to the nearest cot.

Fenris collapsed upon it immediately. He was already mostly asleep when the mage returned with clean blankets to serve as pillows and covers. He smiled when Anders bent to press a gentle kiss to his forehead and tousled his hair before leaving. How strange the world was, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep, that his world could change so rapidly, that his eyes could be opened by such strange happenstance when he had not known they’d been closed to begin with. The world was filled with misconceptions, he realized, and sometimes it just took a bold heart and fools hope to shatter them completely.

 

          ~ Fin


End file.
